


forgiveness (holaric)

by holaric



Category: Legacies (TV 2018)
Genre: Age Difference, Choking, F/M, Holaric, Older Man/Younger Woman, Teacher-Student Relationship, Unhealthy Relationships, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 14:07:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29403132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holaric/pseuds/holaric
Relationships: Hope Mikaelson/Alaric Saltzman
Kudos: 19





	forgiveness (holaric)

Alaric settles into his mattress pressing the back of his hands into his eyes as he thinks. Where had he gone wrong?

There’s a soft knock on his door that interrupts his thoughts. He knows the knock before he even calls out his answer, the answer he would have only given to her.

“It’s open,” he doesn’t move, doesn’t uncover his eyes as he listens to the door creak open and then the lock click into place. He doesn’t even open his eyes when he hears Hope's footsteps approaching and feels her press her knees against the side of his mattress. He can feel her gaze on him blindly. He makes a game out of it.

Does she look angry? He wouldn’t doubt it the way he had yelled at her. She had stuck out her jaw when he scolded her and stared at him with her huge blue eyes cold and hard when he told her that he wouldn’t allow it.

Or does she look sad? He didn’t look over his shoulder earlier, he was too angry, crumpling up the death spell into his fist but he knew the way she braced herself before she broke. It wasn’t a far cry to imagine the tears on her face once she knew he wasn’t watching.

He finally pulled his hands away and looked up at her. Her face was neither angry or sad. It was something else. guilt with a tiny bit of fear.

“I’m sorry,” she says when he meets her eyes.

“I know.”

“I’m _really_ sorry.”

“I _know_.”

He throws an arm back over his eyes the moonlight in his room too bright.

“Can I make it up to you?” Her voice comes small terrified he’ll reject her.

“Hope …” frustration edges into his voice. He knows what she wants to do and he carefully places the scolding into his voice.

“I’m sorry,” it’s a whisper now.

“You can’t.”

“Make it up to you?”

“No,” he sits up to look at her again. “No you can’t keep using sex to make me forgive you," he's going to hold firm in it this time. He’s said it before and gave in before- relented to her shining eyes, her begging voice, her hands, her mouth, her legs -but not this time. He was going to follow through this time.

She kneels on the edge of his bed with her hands folded over her skirt nervously. “What can I do?”

He tilts his head at her his jaw tight and impatient.

“Please," she leans forward letting her unbuttoned blazer slide off her shoulder. “I’ll do anything.”

His hands flies to the side of her face almost before he could stop it. His thumb drags across her cheek as he stares up at her in wonder.

“ _Please._ ”

He ignores every signal in his body and every nerve snapping and begging for him to just give in _again_.

“ _Anything,_ ” her lips brush against his. His breath catches and he almost gives in but he pulls back.

“Hope, why?”

“Why what?” her nose is red even in the blue moonlight. He can tell she’s been crying.

“Why do you do this?”

“I- I _like_ you. I want to make you happy. I just– I don’t want you to be mad at me.”

He pulls her hair off her face holding it against the back of her head as he stares at her.

“You don’t have to sleep with me to make me happy," he furrows his eyebrows at her. “You don’t have to sleep with me for me to forgive you,” his face is deadly serious as he stares up somberly. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah," she nods. “I want to. I just …” she leans down again her warm breath tickling his lips. “I _need_ you.”

“What?”

“I need you. For me,” she swings a leg over him her skirt falling around his stomach. Her hands roam over his chest and his stomach excitedly as she draws her lower lip in between her teeth with her blazer just hanging on by her wrists.

“Hope,” he warns again. She sticks out her chest the see-through button-up pulling tight. He turns his eyes to the ceiling.

“ _Hope._ ”

“Ric," her fingertips run over the sides of his neck, over his throat, his jaw, his lips.

“You don’t have to -”

She slaps a hand over his mouth suddenly and holding it tightly over his lips. He stares at her with wide eyes.

“I _know_. Stop trying to convince me,” she keeps a hand over his mouth as she loops her fingers through the waistband of his pajama pants tugging down. He doesn’t lift his hips and doesn’t offer any help. If she’s going to do this today it’s going to be all her. She curls two fingers into his mouth and holds his jaw roughly. Spit gathers there in his mouth.

“Are you done?” she asks bossily hovering over him. He nods slowly with his eyes glued to hers. She slowly slides her fingers out of his mouth dragging a string of spit with them.

“Good," she sits back and presses herself onto his stomach. “Now touch me.”

His mouth hangs open. “Where?”

She leans down heavily dragging her chest along his. “ _Everywhere."_

His fingers sink into the softness of her thighs and her mouth latches onto his. His hands work up her thighs until they’re under her skirt. She shudders a little just at the thought of what he was about to do. He pushes the wet fabric there aside with his touches light and quick.

“Ah-” she squirms a little trying to be patient. He was always so slow drawing it out and teasing her. She tried to keep kissing him but her mouth kept falling open in pleasure.

He slides one finger into her with his mouth moving from hers to her neck. By the time her skin is pink he has two fingers inside of her and by the time it’s a dark purple hickey it’s three. His thumb works on the outside pressing harder and moving faster when he can feel her tighten.

“Yes," she sighs the word in the quiet room drawing a quick smile out of his lips. Her hair falls down her back and her neck exposed. The combination of her pale throat shining in the dark and her tightening around his hand draws out that dark part of him he doesn't want to awaken. He wraps his fingers around her throat pushing her back until she gave in with a spacey smile and her skirt falling open around her hips. He can feel the anger at the way he remembers what she did and how furious he was with her reckless decision. She squirms underneath him her mouth wide as she draws in labored breaths but she puts her hands above her head and doesn’t try to pull his hand from her neck. Her fingers twist in his sheets and it just makes him angrier. He wasn’t going to give in today. How had this happened? She squeezes his fingers rhythmically tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. Only when she stops does he take his hand off her throat a red hand imprint remaining on her delicate throat. 

"I'm sorry," he says brushing his fingertips over the marks.

"I know."


End file.
